The Road to Here
by Kathryn4
Summary: Miles away from Connecticut, Tristan DuGrey tells his story about the girl he loves to a most unexpected person...


**Author's Note:** Okay I have a bit of writer's block so I wrote this story to hopefully cure it.  By the way, this story is only a one-parter and I'm not doing a sequel.  Please review; they're very much appreciated.  And if you must flame, please make them constructive.  Don't just write: this story sucks.  Tell me why you think it sucks and how you'd change it.  Okay, I'm stopping the lecture now.  On with the story.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and no one.  I'm merely borrowing the characters.  I promise to return them.  All main characters mentioned belong to Amy Sherman-Palladino and the WB.

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It was a beautiful day.  The kind of day that even softened the hearts of strict military school sergeants.  So, in honour of the day, the teachers at Wellington Academy had let their young cadets wander the streets of North Carolina for an hour to do what they wished.  An hour wasn't a lot of time, but Tristan took what he could get.

Most of the other guys had strolled off to find a place where they could 'scope up some chicks'.  Naturally, Tristan had been invited but he had declined.  They were rarely let out of the Academy and Tristan was going to spend this free afternoon, exploring the town.

He was hungry.  Breakfast that morning consisted of runny eggs and some sort of meat that he was sure was still alive.  Spotting a coffee shop across the street, he quickly crossed the road, eager to get a decent meal for the first time in six months.

When he entered the shop, Tristan stared at the selection of food from behind the glass counter.  There lay an assortment of iced cakes, biscuits and other desserts.  Now, growing up as a kid in high society, Tristan was used to the 'Champaign and oysters' treatment.  But ever since he had sat down to his first meal at Wellington Academy, he had decided that he'd take what he could get.

"Hey, what can I get you?" the girl behind the counter asked him.

Tristan blinked, shaken out of his reverie.  "I'll have a blueberry muffin and a large coffee.  Black, please."

"Here, or to go?" she asked.

"To go."

The girl reached under the counter and pulled out a muffin.  She dropped it into a bag and turned around to get him a cup of coffee.  Then she turned around again, looking uncomfortable.  "Um, I'm sorry but we've run out of large take-away coffee cups."  She gestured towards a woman sitting with a man near the back of the store.  "She's been here all morning, ordering cup after cup.  She insisted on using the take-way ones.  Do you mind if I just pour you two medium cups?"

Tristan shook his head, slightly amused at the woman's antics.  "No, it'll be fine."  When Tristan received his order, he turned around to walk out of the store.  Before he could take two steps, a voice was calling out behind him.

"Hey you!  With the two cups!"

Tristan twisted around.  It was that woman the girl had pointed out earlier.  Her male companion had buried his face in his hands, as if he was embarrassed to be seen with her.

"Yes?" Tristan asked impatiently.

The woman she didn't reply.  She just yanked one of the cups out of his hand and chugged down its contents in one sip.

Tristan was too stunned to speak.  He had only known one person who had that kind of addiction to coffee- Rory Gilmore.  Thinking about her, Tristan smiled bitterly.  It was all her fault he was here in the first place.  All because she couldn't love him in return.  But it was his fault for falling in love with her.  A stupid mistake he didn't plan on repeating.

The woman noticed the expression on his face.  "I don't like that look," she said to him.  "I've seen it on myself.  It usually means I'm thinking about something serious.  I don't like serious things so I don't usually have that look.  But my daughter has that look sometimes.  But my daughter is like my clone so I guess I do have that look."

Tristan raised an eyebrow at her.  Her mouth moved so fast he could hardly keep up.  "Listen, I don't mean to be rude but I have to go."

"Oh no you don't," she said, stopping him and pushing him into a nearby chair.  "I was rude by taking your coffee so I insist on buying you another one.  Then again, you ordered two coffees so you must like it as much as I do."  The woman turned her head and beckoned the waitress to come over.  "Another two coffees please," she requested.

The waitress sighed before she scribbled down the order and headed back into the kitchen.

"Now," the woman said, turning back to Tristan.  "While we wait for the coffee, mind telling me about that look you had on before?  It was so seriously serious."

Tristan shook his head.  "It doesn't matter," he said.  "And don't worry about the coffee.  I have to go."  He made a move to get up.  The woman pushed him back into the chair.

"Come on," she said.  "Let's talk about it.  It's not good to keep things bottled up.  You don't even have to mention any names.  I won't even tell you my name.  Just call me the Listen Lady.  Besides, I don't know who you are so if I try to spread gossip about you to people I know, they won't know you either so it wouldn't matter.  It's called, the comfort of strangers."

Tristan couldn't help laughing at her energy.  "Okay, I'll tell you," he said, finally.

"Good," the woman said with satisfaction.  "Tell me the woes about growing up in North Carolina."

"Actually, I'm not a native.  I'm from out of town.  Way out of town.  Another state, actually."  He paused, wondering if he should go on.  "I, uh, got into some trouble and my dad sent me to boarding school."  He was careful not to mention it was a military boarding school.  He didn't want the woman to think he was in rehab or anything like that.

"Oh."  The woman seemed disappointed, about not hearing stories about North Carolina woes Tristan guessed, but then she seemed to brighten up again.  "Well, tell me what sort of trouble you got into.  Did you do something so bad, your folks had to send you to another state?  By the way, I'm not from North Carolina either.  I'm just here for a conference.  But we're not talking about me.  We're talking about you, so go on."

Tristan blinked.  "Uh, well, I guess it all started with this girl."  He paused, allowing himself to remember the girl he left behind.  "She was new to the school and she was different from the rest of us.  All my life, I'd been surrounded by superficial snobs and all of a sudden in comes this girl who's just so… real.  No make-up, just natural.  At first, I was a real jerk to her, you know.  She was supposed to be just another notch on my bedpost."  He laughed bitterly.  "But my great plan backfired.  I fell in love with her."

The woman giggled excitedly.  "That is so typical.  The big man on campus falls for sweet innocent girl.  Go on."

"Well, it should have been perfect, but she already had a boyfriend," Tristan went on.

"Oooh!" the woman protested.  "No!  Why?  Who was this boyfriend?  I don't like him!"

Tristan shook his head.  "Yeah well, if I was her, I'd have gone out with her boyfriend instead of me.  I was the jerk who was madly in love with her and trying to use the third-grade approach to get her to notice me.  He was the tall, dark gentleman who was polite and treated her like a queen."

The woman snorted.  "So he was boring, then?  The safe boyfriend that provides no excitement?"

Tristan nodded, smirking slightly.  She had just described bag-boy Dean perfectly.  "Exactly.  Anyway, they broke up after a while-"

"Yay!" the woman cheered, cutting him off in the middle of his sentence.  "Then what?"

Tristan sighed.  "Look, Listen Lady, I don't mean to be rude, but do you want to hear the end of this or not?"

"I'll shut up," the woman said, snapping her mouth closed.

"Thank you.  Anyhow, they broke up and we became friends.  Well friendish, at least.  I don't think there's actually a word to describe our relationship.  On the last day of school, I asked her to a concert.  She turned me down.  Then I did the stupidest thing.  I took her books and told her that she wasn't going to get them back until she agreed to come with me.  She got mad and she stormed out.  Then it turned out that her hick boyfriend had driven up to our school and they got back together.  She told him she loved him and that she hated me.  That's when I knew that we weren't meant to be."

The woman's mouth dropped open.  "Silly girl," she muttered, under her breath.  "Stupid, stupid boyfriend."

Tristan shrugged.  "Then to get over her I started hanging out with a bad crowd," he continued.

"No!" the woman objected.  She reached across the table and shook Tristan by the shoulders.  "Don't tell me that you did something really stupid, got thrown into boarding school and you never got together with her.  I refuse to listen if you did."

"Actually, that's exactly what happened," Tristan admitted.

The woman covered her ears.  "La, la, la," she sang.  "I can't hear you."

Tristan smiled bitterly.  "Yeah, I wished it didn't end up that way either," he said, despondently.  "But it did."

She lowered her hands away from her ears.  "I'm sorry it didn't work out for you.  But you're obviously still thinking about her.  Maybe it will work out when you go back home."

He shook his head slowly.  "I don't think so," he said.  "She's still dating that gentleman boyfriend of hers and I don't want to hurt her more than I already have."

"But she's hurt you," the woman pointed out.  "I can see that.  If you don't do something about it, you'll be scarred for life.  From what you told me, you never told her how you felt did you?"

"No," he said slowly.  "I didn't tell her.  But what good will it do?  She doesn't feel the same way."

"You don't know that and you won't find out unless you tell her," the woman argued.  "You're a good kid, really.  And she sounds like a nice girl.  If she's worth getting kicked into boarding school, you've got to tell her."

Tristan sighed.  "I got to get back to my dorm," he said, changing the subject.  He stood up and walked towards the door.  Tristan paused when he reached the entrance.  "Thanks for listening."  With that, he pushed open the door and walked out.

She hurried over to the window and watched his retreating figure sadly.  The man she had been sitting with earlier came over to join her.  "Who was that boy?" Michel asked in his thick French accent.

She didn't say anything for a while.  "A troubled kid," Lorelai Gilmore said finally.  "But he's got a good heart.  The girl who has it doesn't realize how lucky she is."


End file.
